


Tethered

by sciencebluefeelings



Series: Trials of the Flesh [4]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:07:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25433608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sciencebluefeelings/pseuds/sciencebluefeelings
Summary: Ambassador Spock always had a feeling that Jim would leave him someday, and he himself would be the only one to blame for it.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock Prime
Series: Trials of the Flesh [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1518596
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10
Collections: #ficwip 5k





	Tethered

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a standalone for the [#ficwip5k](https://twitter.com/ficwip) challenge. It takes place after the events of _Unveiled_.

Spock has always been a sensitive sleeper. He wakes now due to the faint buzz of his comm.

Spock glances back at his lover. Jim is sound asleep with his arms tight around Spock's torso. Spock gently dislodges Jim’s hands to slip to the edge of the bed and receive the call.

Spock recognizes the voice in an instant. “ _Ambassador_ ,” the Starfleet admiral says.

Spock's limbs suddenly feel as if they are ice. His heart, initially sluggish with sleep, is racing in his side. “How did you receive this number? And no, I will not help you.”

“ _Please,_ ” the admiral pleads. “ _You must listen to what I have to say first, Ambassador. We would not have contacted you if the situation was this dire._ ”

Spock's eyes are tightly closed as the admiral continues to speak. The request closely resembles one of the many ‘missions’ Starfleet had utilized Spock for before his younger counterpart, now the captain of the _Enterprise_ , had discovered what he was doing over a year ago.

The missions had been straightforward: seduce the individual in question, be compliant with all of their demands no matter how depraved they may be, then negotiate the transaction or keep the individual immobile for Starfleet to come and finish the job.

Jim and Spock's younger counterpart had convinced Spock to find a new path. Spock had listened to them and agreed with their logic. Spock and Jim both resigned from Starfleet and began a new life together, and Spock had not anticipated ever hearing from Starfleet again. How foolish he was to think they would leave him alone.

To this day, Jim still sees the missions as coercion, as Starfleet exploiting the accessibility and needy Vulcan blood of his now-lover. Spock thinks it is more complicated than that, but he never voiced such thoughts aloud.

The admiral has not finished speaking. “ _Believe us, we have tried all our options. We require your assistance to infiltrate the siege and arrest the general. A shuttle will arrive tomorrow afternoon. Please be ready to make a decision by then._ ”

The call ends. Spock closes the communicator as silently as possible.

“Spock? Who was that?” Spock's heart rate spikes to an all-time high as he swivels to face Jim, whose eyes are alert and wide open.

Spock's breath trembles as he exhales. He sets aside the comm and presses his body down next to Jim's. “Sleep, my love.”

Jim is not deterred. “What's going on?”

Spock shakes his head. “Please, Jim. Not until morning.” Spock feels Jim stiffen to his touch, and he attempts to project reassurance, a calming presence in his mind. Jim rests back on the pillow, but his thoughts swirl about, dark and unreadable.

Spock wakes up alone. The blankets are tucked around his body. He is usually not the one to wake later than Jim.

Spock has a sinking feeling of inevitable loss as he walks down to the kitchen. Jim is already there, standing in front of the hot water kettle with his shoulders slouched. Spock hesitates at the threshold. “Jim.”

Jim lifts his head to face him. His eyes are bleak with worry. Spock can't move.

The water is boiling. Jim turns off the kettle. “Now will you please tell me who was calling you?”

Spock must tell him. And surely Spock will lose him when he does. It's too soon. Spock doesn't want to tell Jim yet.

Jim spreads his hands. “Love, if you weren't acting like you didn't want to get caught, I wouldn't be making such a big deal out of it.” His eyes are hard but his voice trembles. “It was Starfleet. Right?”

Spock bows his head in defeat.

Jim’s volume grows with each word. “They're coercing you into another deal, aren't they? They want you to act like their nice little sex toy in some godforsaken place where I don't know if you'll come back alive.”

“Jim, there is an entire hidden network of people, so many lives at stake,” Spock whispers. “Starfleet has already done everything that they could do. I must assist them.”

Jim looks at the ceiling, then back at Spock. They both know Spock will not change his mind, that it would hurt them both more for Jim to continue protesting, yet Jim must. It is how he expresses his love. Spock already knows this. “Spock. Please. I don't ask a lot of you, listen to me just this once. Don't do it.”

“I am the only one that can help. I have the capability, I could not forgive myself if I were to turn away.”

“Spock,” Jim begs. “If you go back this once, you'll keep going back. You'll let Starfleet put their foot in the door, and they'll suck every ounce of use they can before discarding you. Hell, Spock. Can't you at least pretend to think about it?”

“There is no time, Jim,” Spock says in despair.

The begging shifting to an ultimatum is predictable, but regardless the harsh words feel like a piercing wound to Spock's heart. “If you decide to do this, I can't stay with you.”

Spock's eyes are focused on Jim's hands. They had touched him so tenderly last night. “I presumed as much.”

Jim's knuckles are turning white from how tightly he grips his cup. Spock can tell Jim is forcing himself to count to ten. “You're doing this, knowing I'll break up with you? Do you want to break up with me?”

Spock finally makes eye contact with Jim, and the pain in his lover's expression is fathomless.

Spock's gaze drops again. “The shuttle will arrive today. I must leave at once.”

“Leave, then. I’m out.” Jim shoves past Spock to the bedroom, undoubtedly to retrieve a suitcase. Spock braces himself against the doorway and hears Jim's voice at the top of the stairs. “When will you be back?”

Spock wants to ask why Jim wants to know. Why he would even bother to ask? He will be long gone from the house and Spock's life by then.

“In eight standard days,” Spock says.

There is a pause, and then the door closes. Spock cannot bear the thought of watching Jim leave. Still wearing the robe he had slept in, he slips into his sandals and quietly exits the house.

Spock cannot deny that his carnal flesh, more insistent with age, had craved the sex. It had lusted for intimacy, of claiming and being claimed. The moments afterwards were the closest thing Spock had to feeling satiated.

Then Spock had somehow received the tender affection of Jim in this universe with all its potency. Spock had tasted the forbidden fruit, felt security and Jim's desire not only for his body but for himself. He could never replace Jim by returning to his former ways.

Spock thinks all these things as he is beamed onto Starfleet's shuttle, debriefed for the very delicate operation ahead, transported to the heart of the target's safehold into his private chambers.

Spock takes an instant dislike to the target in question. A general of prestigious background, haughty and vain and aware of his own power, his credentials. He savours the symbol of wealth in his grasp, a Vulcan slave. The general will be arrested when this is over, but until then Spock must lie in his bed and pleasure him.

The general removes what little exists of Spock's garments, until he is clad only in sheer fabric. His lower body is exposed to the general. The general slaps at his thigh. “Spread your legs wider, slut.”

Spock squeezes his eyes shut and obeys the command.

The general finally takes his fill and falls asleep. In his vulnerable state, the Starfleet ships overhead ambushes them. Spock neck pinches the guards that approach him as he scrambles to find the hidden entrance described to him in the briefing schematics.

Spock's shaking hand locates the hidden button in the bathroom closet. Within it is a PADD with the vital information Starfleet needs, much of it scrambled in code.

The self-detonation device activates, but it is too late. The general has been arrested and Starfleet has already reacquired Spock. Spock relays the information to them, drawing out diagrams on the maps he had seen in the PADD. They show illegal trading routes, frequent locations for slave markets, the individuals frequently involved, including the names of those that maintain the markets themselves.

Spock is exhausted by the time he is finished rewriting the code he had seen. He was only able to take a brief sonic shower before the Starfleet officers began pressuring him to begin recording information. The responsibility lies with the codebreakers now.

Spock is led to the ship's medical bay where one of the doctors examines him. The dermal regenerators heal most of the scratches and bruises and tender skin, but Spock has contracted a disease transmitted through saliva and semen. With medication, it will require thirty days to recover.

The doctor discharges Spock as soon as he has given Spock the necessary medication. The captain of this Starfleet vessel is kind with a deep voice. She shows Spock to a temporary room to rest in until they can transport him back home. She also offers to show Spock to the cafeteria, but Spock declines. He is so, so tired. All he wants is to curl up next to Jim, but that is an option no longer available to him.

Spock takes a thorough water shower with the water temperature turned up as high as it could go. The gash on his neck aches profusely, wrapped in watertight bandages.

Not bothering to wear anything, Spock pulls the blankets off the guest bed to lie down on the floor next to the bed frame. He cannot sleep, but the deep mediation he slips into is enough to clear the aching pressure in his mind.

Spock's intercom buzzes. “Mr. Spock?” Spock receives the call. It is this ship's captain. “Mr. Spock, we are arriving at our destination now.”

Spock thanks her and the call disconnects. Spock replicates undergarments and a soft robe to wear. Before he leaves, the doctor provides Spock with a small bag containing the clothing he had arrived in. It was all he had brought. A smaller shuttle transfers Spock from the ship to the port below.

Spock plods towards the exit with heavy steps. The pressing reality of an empty house looms over Spock's head. The despairing thought is so dense that Spock almost does not see the individual waiting for him at the gate.

Spock's breath catches. He blinks twice, but the image of the figure does not go away. Spock dares to take another step forward. “Jim?”

Jim holds out his hands. Spock cannot move any closer, he is so taken aback. “You are here.” Spock suddenly feels silly for stating the obvious.

Jim doesn't comment on it. “Yep. I'm here to pick you up.” His eyebrows furrow looking at Spock's neck. “You got hurt.”

Spock resists the urge to pick at the bandage. “The arrest did not happen as smoothly as intended. But I am fine.”

Jim's face crumbles. “Goddammit, Spock,” and then Jim's hands are on Spock's shoulders and he's leaning forward.

Spock flinches away. “You cannot kiss me, Jim.” Spock lowers his voice. “The disease I have contracted is transmitted through saliva.”

Momentary alarm is replaced with a grim expression. “Are you alright? Do we need to take you to Bones?”

“I have already been treated. The medication is in progress, but I will not be clean for a long time.” There is a mild irritation whenever Spock moves, but he does not tell Jim.

People around them are beginning to stare. Jim sighs and lets go of Spock. “Want me to take your bag for you? I’ll drive.” Without waiting for a response, Jim gently takes Spock’s bag from his grasp. “Let's go home.”

“Yes,” Spock says. He is still so pent up, he is not sure if it is safe to be relieved yet. They walk to the parking lot, and the car is parked at the corner of the garage.

“Spock, wait.” Jim hesitates. “Can I hug you?”

A little of the tension in Spock's chest eases. “Please.”

Jim wraps his arms around Spock, his breath fluttering against Spock’s neck, and Spock feels as if he is melting into the embrace. He loses track of how much time has passed before Jim draws back and sighs. “Let’s go. It’s a long car ride ahead of us.”

They enter the car, and Spock startles when Jim drapes his coat over Spock’s lap and adjusts his seat to make it more comfortable to lean back. The car starts smoothly. Jim glances at Spock. “Let me know if you need anything, alright?”

Spock takes a calming breath. He cannot leave this unsaid. “Jim, I cannot apologize.”

“I know.” Jim entwines his fingers into Spock's. “But I can.” Emotions pour through, guilt and affection, anger and frustration.

Spock had considered himself wiser with advanced age, yet at this moment he feels small and unsure, wholly insignificant. “I don't know what I should do, Jim.”

Jim is silent for a while, rubbing his thumb over the back of Spock’s worn hand. “Well, you know what I think. I love you too much to see you being used like this. But I'll never make the mistake of leaving you again.” Even as he speaks, Jim’s emotions flicker.

Spock sighs and brings Jim’s hand up to press his cheek to it. “I burden you.”

“Burden? Fuck, Spock. You’re the one that went and - don’t ever say you’re burdening me.” Jim’s hand runs down the side of Spock’s face before returning to hold Spock’s hand once more. The sky outside is turning crimson. Spock watches the clouds light up with vibrant color.

They finally arrive home, and Spock is startled to open the door to illuminated rooms, the smell of home cooking in the air.

“Turned off the stove right before I drove to pick you up. Have a seat, I'll serve us.” It’s Jim’s homemade porridge, carefully seasoned and easy to digest. Jim ladles the porridge into bowls as Spock sits. “Hungry, Spock?”

“Famished.”

Jim brings the food to the table. “Well, there’s more if you want. Careful, it’s still hot.”

The porridge tastes as amazing as it smells. Jim watches Spock eat with his chin cradled in his hands. Spock pauses. “That is not good for your jaw, Jim.”

Jim shakes his head but obeys with a smile, changing his position. “Such a mother hen.”

“Someone must take care of you,” Spock says, taking another spoonful of porridge.

“How about you take care of yourself first, sweetheart.”

“That is not possible.”

“God, don’t I know,” Jim mutters under his breath.

After Spock has finished eating, he rests in the living room while Jim does the dishes. The bandage around his neck is becoming uncomfortable, and he attempts to unravel it. “Jim?”

“Just a moment,” Jim calls.

The sink turns off and Jim rushes to Spock’s side. Spock points to the bandage. “Can you assist me in wrapping a new bandage?”

Jim scrutinizes the bandage with a frown. “Let me get the first aid kit. Wait here.” After Jim retrieves the small green box, he sits back on the couch and pats his lap. “Lie down.”

Spock hesitantly rests his head in Jim’s lap, tilting his face up towards the ceiling. Jim strokes Spock’s face before undoing the bandage and meticulously redressing the wound. He wraps the new bandage and fastens it. “That alright?”

Spock nuzzles Jim's thigh. “Yes. Thank you.”

Jim moves as if to kiss Spock, before catching himself. “Ah. Right.” He chuckles and kisses Spock's forehead before stroking his hands through Spock’s hair. “Reminds me of our first night in this house. I kept forgetting not to kiss you.”

“I was still in awe that you desired to be with me.” Spock raises his two fingers for a Vulcan kiss, and Jim immediately touches his fingers to Spock’s, caressing his skin. “I cherished you, as I do now.”

Jim sobers. “Spock. You know I don’t care about the sex part, right? I mean - I think could tolerate you having sex with other people - maybe. But you’re always getting hurt and taken advantage of, and I know you don’t want it, and I can’t stand that.” Spock closes his eyes and sends a gentle pulse to him through their touch. Jim keeps running his hands over Spock’s body. “You must be tired. Let’s sleep.” Spock agrees wordlessly. They get ready for bed before saying their goodnights. Spock lies next to Jim on the bed, lights on twenty percent.

He counts the hours as they pass, and does not grow tired. Eventually Spock sits up, face in his hands. He had anticipated that sleep would elude him, but it is frustrating nonetheless.

“Babe?” Spock startles at Jim’s voice, and turns to see Jim also sitting up.

Spock blushes. “I cannot fall asleep.”

“Neither can I.” Spock feels a kiss pressed to his temple. “Do you want to meld?”

It is a tempting prospect, but Spock has burdened his love so much today already. The sharing of their minds can wait. “No, thank you.”

“I’ll keep you company then.” Spock leans into Jim’s embrace. Jim is feeling around for something. “Got the remote here. Want to watch something?”

“Yes. Anything is fine.” Spock just wants to be held by Jim. He hears the vidscreen switched on, and it’s already set to Spock’s favorite channel. Jim teases him about it, but Spock is fascinated by the cast of diverse faces traveling all over the galaxy to exchange knowledge and information about diverse cuisines, restaurants and cultures.

Jim rearranges the blankets and encourages Spock to lie down between his legs. They recline together, and Jim keeps his touch chaste as he holds Spock. The sound effects from the vidscreen fill the room, not loud enough to be obtrusive. The program is discussing Orion arctic vegetables tonight.

“There it is,” Jim says softly.

“Hm?” Spock hums.

Jim kisses the corner of Spock’s eye where the wrinkles converge. “You’re purring. Been a while since I heard that.”

It is a very minute vibration low in Spock’s chest, but it is indeed a purr. He must feel safe enough in this moment to relax his body. Spock rests his head on Jim’s arm. “Say you will be here if I wake up.”

“But I need to prepare breakfast.”

Spock pouts. “Jim.”

“I’m kidding,” Jim says with amusement. His hand is warm on Spock’s back. “I won’t leave until you open your eyes and say good morning to me. I promise. Okay, babe?”

Spock nods into Jim’s chest. Spock knows Jim will not break his promise, and it’s enough to convince Spock to relax, at least for this one night. Spock’s comm has been left off. If there are any important calls to be received, Spock has already decided they can wait this once.

**Author's Note:**

> Epilogue: Spock comes to an epiphany that he’s been going about this the completely wrong way and asks Jim to call the Enterprise for intervention. Captain Spock and Doctor McCoy are livid when they find out what happened. A war almost breaks out. Starfleet learns that no one can win an argument against Leonard Horatio McCoy.
> 
> The Starfleet brass never contact Ambassador Spock again, and he is able to live peacefully with Jim without fear of ever being drafted once more.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! (or reaching the bottom of the page ^^) I appreciate all kudos and any form of comments! especially the ones w emoji spam 💖💖✨✨
> 
> If you enjoyed this story, [you might like this short fic about Jim being comforted by Ambassador Spock during shore leave](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24426376)


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